These Lovely Hollows
by Marchioness of Blackadder
Summary: Upon Alice's fateful return, a Tyrant rules a Black Throne, the White Queen has fled, and the Mad Hatter and the Resistance are to deadly arms to defend the life they love. The Game is set, the Players at match-now it's up to Alice to make the next move.
1. A Tilted Tea Party

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you for taking the time to click on my story. I hope you'll give it a chance. This is the first time I've written a fan fiction story for Alice in Wonderland, and I'm very excited. This story is evolving as I sit and write to you now, and I hope that once you read it, you'll be as happy to continue as I am. Please take the time to review, even if it's only a few words. I greatly appreciate it, and the more encouragement, the faster the chapters will come! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alice in Wonderland or any characters within it's books or film. I reserve the right to claim my original characters, which will be revealed throughout the course of the story. Thank you.**

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_Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes._

-Carl Jung

**Chapter 1: A Tilted Tea Party**

Every time Alice had a dream that she could recall, it was always the same. Her dreams had always occurred in this way, for as long as she could remember, but until recently, instead of a dream of a white rabbit and a smiling cat, it had changed. It had been the same for about six months now, and though she could not remember it every night, she knew it was unchanged. It always began the same, but by the time the dream had started, she felt as exhausted as if she had been there all night, running in the same place.

Upon opening her eyes in the dream, Alice found herself writing a letter, though she could never read what it said. It was in a language she could not understand- a puzzling predicament, and frustrating. She had no idea who the letter was being written to, but she had a sense of panic as she wrote furiously, her normally delicate cursive script became chicken scratch in her impatience. She was seated at a desk in a room with no walls, but beyond the floating windows a lightning storm brewed. Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of a shadow from beyond the window flying across her page, but she could never spy the object in the dark. The lightning, the harsh electricity that turned the black sky a terrible violet, hurt her eyes so horribly, and Alice felt so utterly tired after only seconds into writing her strange letter, the panic building inside her chest painfully like a bubble trying to break her ribs. Whatever the letter said was urgent. Her heart pounded so hard and fast she would fear it would beat right out of her chest-

"Alice dear, we've arrived."

A dull ache reverberated in Alice's tired muscles, and her head throbbed as she opened her eyes and looked around the dark carriage. They had indeed stopped; the sunlight streamed in and it felt as though it would sear the skin right off Alice's hands. She sat up a bit, rubbing the back of her head and looked up at Lord Ascot, who was smiling empathetically. "It's a bit hard to get used to all of these long travels. I confess, I myself still yearn for home, even after all the wonderful places I've been to and seen."

Alice's hands folded in her lap and she felt the edges of her heart wilt. _Home._ She didn't feel like she was home, nor did she feel like she'd ever been home in any one place yet. Her thoughts of home felt like she was throwing darts at a map on a wall. No matter where the dart seemed to land, she would never be right where she should be. It was just as useless. Alice felt like she would enjoy her home- if she could ever determine where exactly it was located. She could remember what home felt like, when her father was alive. That was a home, with a happy family, her mother and sister. But now, Charles Kingsleigh was gone and Margaret was no longer a Kingsleigh in name. Alice felt no regret for leaving their mother, recalling the conversation they had shared after her disastrous to-be engagement.

_Alice sat silently beside her mother in the carriage on the road home. It was tense for Alice, waiting to have to battle against her mother's reprimands, but Helen Kingsleigh could not look more at ease. It was maddening to Alice, waiting for the axe to fall. She would rather have her mother glaring at her in disapproval than this awful silence._

"_You can go ahead and let me have it," Alice muttered finally, unable to keep silent a moment longer. _

_Helen smiled wryly, and Alice felt a small jolt of surprise at the gesture. Her mother looked over at her with cool, amused eyes and said softly, "Well I suppose I've let you suffer long enough. I can't say that I'm surprised at your actions, though I am disappointed."_

"_I'm not sorry," Alice murmured, keeping her gaze level but respectful._

"_I am," Helen said with a slight frown. "That's my favorite dress for you to wear. Look at it! Ruined."_

_There was a pregnant pause, and Alice and Helen stared at one another, both women looking at the other with a glint of amusement. Helen smirked and a bubble of a laugh finally escaped Alice's lips. Though she was a bit disappointed her dress had become so gnarled in her little cross country walk. It was Alice's favorite dress, too._

"_In all regard, there are good things that have come from this," Helen nodded to herself with a pleasantly satisfied smile. "I don't know how long I could much stand Lady Ascot as a relative, though Lord Ascot is better company."_

_Alice smiled gently. It was good to hear this particular bit of information because she had asked Lord Ascot to check on her mother should Alice be away for too long. Alice knew they could get along well, and often saw the innocent joke pass between them now and again. Even though he had agreed, something plagued Alice still…_

"_You won't be lonely… will you?" the blonde haired daughter asked, her voice tentative and afraid of the answer. Guilt was weighing on her heart, and she knew that just the wrong- or just the right- answer from her mother would cripple her attempts to go to China._

_However, Helen Kingsleigh laughed. Laughed! Alice sat across from her mother, disbelief and shock flittering across her face. She couldn't remember the last time her mother laughed, even just a slight chuckle. Alice remembered that her father often used to tell her that it was her mother's laugh he liked best, because he could forever make her laugh with his sly little jokes and colorful stories._

"_You act as though I might turn into a Miss Havirshim, Alice. I may be older and on my own, but I daresay I won't spiral off into a deep depression because my daughters have left home. 'Tis the natural order of things, after all, even if it is quite _unnatural_ in the departure of one of my daughters." _

_And Alice then really looked at her mother for the first time in several months, and she remembered a very important fact: this was the woman who married Charles Kingsleigh. Strong, brave, independent- a woman who could stand her ground and not give in to any living creature._

_No, she would not feel guilty._

The footman opened the carriage door and Lord Ascot helped Alice out. After their six month long business trip to China, Alice's apprenticeship had blossomed into a foothold not only in Shanghai but a foothold into what she truly wanted out of life. She was certain that she could not be bothered with trivial things that didn't make sense to her, such as corsets and stockings, but she was also uncertain about other things, questions still left unanswered. Though after such confounding dreams, her head always felt too terribly crowded to pinpoint exactly what questions she needed to answer.

Lord Ascot and Alice ascended the steps of his grand, grey bricked home at a leisurely pace. Alice grinned to herself, wondering if Lord Ascot was deliberately trying to stall his time before seeing his wife. Alice certainly didn't blame him, and she was only staying for tea! Poor Lord Ascot had to actually live with the dragon…

"Lord Ascot, welcome home," came a cool, elegant voice the moment the door swung open. Alice stayed behind Lord Ascot, and looked away as he greeted his wife after she'd descended the grand staircase. Their home was the same, bland estate that she remembered. Colors of grey, cream, beige, and no life at all seemed to be the staple. Their home smelled of stale tea and dead flowers. Alice imaged that there must be dust and spider webs in certain corners, but none that you would ever be able to find, probably perfectly hidden away-certainly in the part of Lady Ascot's brain where imagination and kindness was supposed to keep.

Lady Ascot continued to feed her husband buttery words of sweetness that made Alice roll her eyes, though she was curious to see if Lady Ascot would even give her a second glance. After all, the last time they had been together was when Alice had embarrassed her son Hamish and Lady Ascot herself in front of half of London's most esteemed socialites.

Alice considered it one of her finest accomplishments.

"There is tea for us all out in the garden," said Lady Ascot, smiling genially at her husband, still coolly averting her eyes from Alice. As far as she was concerned, Alice Kingsleigh was an urchin who wasn't even deserving of the Ascots' table scraps.

Lord Ascot sent Alice an apologetic glance as he followed his wife out into the garden. Alice took a deep breath, then, and followed her business associate. She found a good friend and confidant in Lord Ascot. He held a high respect for her, something that she didn't find in many people (men especially) and he regarded her father with the same reverence as she did: a man of no mere creativity, but of mad, brilliant ingenuity. So, for the Lord and not at all the Lady, Alice followed them into the garden. After all, Alice was only staying for tea, and then she would go to her mother's house in the country for some well deserved rest. _Which can't come soon enough_, she mused.

The tea table was set up just under one of the wide oak trees. The china was beautifully set, painted with red roses. There were carrot cakes, cucumber sandwiches, and a small salad with turnips. Lord Ascot held out his wife's chair, and their butler did the same for Alice. Once all three were settled, Lady Ascot began pouring tea. There was a pregnant silence; Lord Ascot looked content enough to sit and pretend he was by himself, neither with guest nor wife.

"How is Hamish?" Alice asked, more out of politeness than any interest whatsoever.

Lord Ascot smirked at her bravery.

Lady Ascot's steely blue eyes finally settled on Alice as she served her husband tea with a floating slice of lemon. Her look alone was enough to freeze the warm tea right there on the table. It seemed that she had to force the wrinkles around her mouth to pull into an amiable smile as she replied, "He is doing marvelous. Today, he is calling on Miss Eleanor Randal, who he has been to visit with more than three times in the past two weeks."

Alice was already feeling her eyelids flutter under the temptation of sleep.

"Randal, of the lumber Randals? That is quite a feat, my dear," said Lord Ascot, humoring his wife. "However did you manage the match?"

That was all she needed before she started fluttering away at the "match" made in Heaven, Hamish and Eleanor. Alice couldn't be more happy for them. In all likelihood, they probably deserved each other. As Lord Ascot listened to his wife, nodding his head in agreement, Alice's eyes drifted across the lush green grounds. She could still see the dancing couples from her Venus fly trap of an engagement party, all the cream, beige, and pastel she could possibly stomach at one time. It looked so desolately empty now. But even though it was so empty, it felt as if something more was missing. Something she remembered vaguely, but couldn't exactly put her finger on. That day seemed so foggy to her now, as she tried to think on it. She could remember being so tired, yet so filled with life after she said no to Hamish. And there was that nasty scratch on her arm-

A sudden gust of spring air washed over the entire tea party, and completely turned over the tea table. Lord Ascot jumped to his feet, his wife crying out in dismay as all of her fine china cracked against the earth. Alice sat there for one heart beat, dazed, before suddenly her hat flew off with the wind. She gasped as it was torn from her blonde head, and as the butler, two more servants, and Lord and Lady Ascot hurried to salvage their tea, Alice sprang out of her seat and after her hat. Her powder blue traveling coat whirled in the wind behind her as her hat danced along in front.

_How peculiar,_ Alice thought. _Two breezes, working against one another._ She found it was puzzling enough that she would have such a silly thought at all, but her dainty bonnet was dancing just out of her reach. It was her favorite hat, for it kept the sun and her hair out of her face, but it made her feel as though she were not one in the same as all the other hatted women she saw. It helped her feel simply Alice. With that encouragement, she pursed her lips and ran faster, the wind bothering the maze bushes and roses that were suspiciously red, though Alice could have sworn they had been white upon her last visit to the estate. The wind slapped her bonnet into the maze wall and Alice grinned triumphantly as she slowed her pace and reached out for it-

_WOOSH!_ Again it flew off, now out of the maze and up along the grassy knoll past the trees.

"Bugger," Alice muttered, fisting her petite hands at her sides before taking off again, now up the hill, through the trees that let the hat dance past them harmlessly before- _yes_! -the wind carried it up and Alice's favorite hat found itself stuck on a tree limb by the salmon colored ribbon that tied it together. Alice frowned, glancing over her shoulder and back at the grey bricked home of the Ascot's. She must have run a mile, or so it felt like. With a quick deep breath, Alice climbed up on top of one of the gnarled roots of the tree, holding onto one of the lower limbs so she could reach her hat, which floated innocently just out of her way.

"Come on," Alice huffed, swinging her arm back and up again, trying her hardest to stretch herself across the tree to reach it. _How absurd I must look,_ she thought with a little smile. Her other hand gripped the lower tree limb harder, leaning all of her weight on it, raising up onto her toes. With a little nudge of her toes, Alice's hand closed over her hat and a rush of success filled her to the ends of her blonde hair. She grinned, pulling the hat down. "Got you-"

A sickening crack drained all of the little color from Alice's face, and she looked down just in time to see a gaping hole at the base of the tree, which she was perilously leaning over, and the weakling of a tree limb that was barely holding her up. Alice dared not breathe, staring frighteningly at the black hole beneath her. Innocently, a little blue butterfly landed on her shoulder. Alice's eyes looked at the blue butterfly, still not breathing and suddenly the last of the strength of the limb failed and broke. Without any balance or foothold left, Alice found herself tumbling head first into that hole in the earth at the base of the tree, screaming into the darkness.

Had anyone seen where Alice had run off to, had anyone had as much luck to trail her trek up the grassy knoll, the only evidence of Alice Kingsleigh would have been her dainty bonnet hanging just on the edge of that dark hollow, and an allegedly innocent blue butterfly resting on its ribbon.

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**Chapter 2 coming soon!**


	2. Five Golden Stars

**Chapter 2: Five Golden Stars**

_Imagination has always had powers of resurrection that no science can match_. -Ingrid Bengis

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Alice was not easily frightened, but when she found herself free falling into a dark abyss, she constituted it as an appropriate scare.

Down and down she went, so fast and far that she wasn't sure if she was falling up or down. The farther she fell, the odder it looked as she began to see shapes and objects clinging to the walls. Book shelves filled with lost knickknacks and books forgotten about, tables with lamps still burning and dinner plates with the dinner only half eaten, even a bed that was fairly made. Grappling at anything her slender hands could find, she found roots and vines and tried to grab a hold of them, but the only one she found a good grasp on snapped (tearing her fingernail in the process), and she slammed into the top of a china case that was perilously perched on a roped root, shattering the glass within its windows. Alice had enough time to breathe once before it fell end over end, breaking in half and the blonde plummeted even faster than before, this time surrounded by porcelain dishes.

Alice didn't realize that she was screaming until her back hit the top of a piano next, and her head hit the back of the keys. Just as the piano began to slide off its perch as well, Alice opened her eyes and glimpsed a look upward at the hole she'd fallen into- a hole that now resembled a pale grey eye that seemed to be staring directly at her with the most curious expression.

Suddenly, a thousand memories, yet they were all the same one, came flooding back to Alice. She could feel the remembrance surge her brain, down through her nose and cheeks, up to her eyeballs and down through her body, as if it had only happened moments ago. Voices swam through her mind and rang in her ears.

_"Be back before you know it," She had promised with a twinkling smile._

_"Futterwacken," purred a Cat._

_"Six- I can slay the Jabberwocky!" she said, her fists tightening on her sword._

_"It must be your choice," whispered a defeated Queen._

_"If it ain't Alice, it ain't dead…" stated a little boy, confused yet sure of it all at the same time._

_"Down with the Bloody Red Queen!" roared a handsome Scottish rouge, wild viridian eyes gleaming._

_"Stupid girl," muttered a cerulean Caterpillar._

_"McTwisp brought us the wrong Alice!" complained a feisty Mouse._

_"I'll take you to the Hare and the Hatter, but that's the end of it," purred the grinning Cat._

_"It's you…you're absolutely Alice, I'd know you anywhere!" gushed a joyous, lisping man with the most bewitching, yet kind eyes she had ever seen._

_"You called it 'Wonderland' as I recall," drawled the Caterpillar._

Alice threw herself up off the piano at the realization of where she was (or where she was going, rather), but the sudden movement sent the piano hurtling down into the abyss behind her until her entire body crashed through a wall of soft brick, then hit something that felt like cement; she was sure it had broken every bone in her body. Alice whimpered, waiting for the piano to come crashing from above to smash her, but after five long counts, she opened her eyes and found that she was by herself, unharmed, laying on a black and white checkered tiled floor, in a room with doors at every turn. She sat up, rubbing her head and slowly, that day with Hamish that had been so foggy before… returned. And suddenly, it was Hamish, Lady Ascot, Margaret, and the entire engagement party itself that was foggy. The real memory, the one that had been there the entire time… the memory of Wonderland-Underland was _real_.

Alice stood up, turning in disoriented circles before her eyes landed on the antique key laying on the glass table, beside the bottle of-

"Pishsalver," said Alice with a grin, striding to it. As she picked up the bottle, she wondered for a moment why it was so easy to do this again. Why was she here? There must be a reason, of course. The blue butterfly (she had a sneaking suspicion of the identity) that had caused her balance to be her literal downfall had not been a coincidence. She was sure of it.

Alice felt an eternal relief wash through her at being so close to Underland again. She paused with the bottle in hand and looked up from where she'd fallen. There was an entire life up there that she had discovered. She'd crossed oceans, explored continents, stood her ground in a world that was destined to shut her out. In a world where everything was in explicit rules to dictate _your_ world in perfect order, none of it made sense to Alice. It never had.

**Drink me**, said the card on the bottle.

"This _does_, though," Alice murmured, staring at the bottle. "Underland- it always has…"

With that, Alice tipped the bottle up to her lips, closed her eyes, and drank. The liquid was warm and tasted like stark copper and salt, searing her throat. She choked and coughed for a moment, and she felt the familiar receding pressure leaving her body as she began to shrink in size. She gasped and reached out for the key just as her eye level passed the table, grabbing it in time as she found herself to be mere inches tall. Her blue coat was to be left behind, as was her moss green skirt and white blouse. She looked down to find a dress that felt to be made of the lace lining of her white blouse. It was in a tangle of knots about her body, silvery satin lining from the embroidery tying around her neck and the tops of her arms. It would have to do- she wasn't to be bothered by it now.

"I'm coming- I'm coming!" Alice called as she ran to the door. No one was there of course, but she felt the need to reassure anything that had missed her- any_one_ who had missed her. She pushed the key into the lock, twisted it, and shoved the door open. She closed her eyes, a little game she liked to play to delay wonderful outcome-that is, the beauty of the world she missed so terribly.

When she opened her eyes, though, she felt all of the breath leave her lungs in dismay.

Underland had changed, and Alice had a feeling that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

To the untrained eye, or perhaps someone who had never been to Underland before, it was not obvious. But Alice knew Underland. It was a place that she understood and took refuge in.

"What…" Alice whispered, going down the steps from the door quickly, two at a time.

Underland looked like it had its colors drained from certain spots, as if it was a watercolor picture that had raindrops spattered on it. The sky was pearl grey and bleak, threatening rain, though Alice couldn't remember a time it had rained when she had been there. The toadstools stood along the edges of the path she walked, many rotten and creating a foul odor that caused Alice to cover her nose and mouth. Worst of all- the flowers- the flowers' faces! They were silent, unmoving as if… as if…

Alice rubbed her bare arms, the hair on the back of her neck standing up on end as a sudden chill raced up her spine. It all seemed so _dead_. There wasn't any sound at all from what Alice could hear- no buzzing of insects, no chirping or squawking of birds… no life at all.

"Hello!" Alice called, and she began walking quickly, a bad feeling curling up in the pit of her stomach like a serpent. "Hello? Is anyone out here? Please! …someone…Absolem? Mallymkun? Thackery?"

A sudden lurch of her heart knocked Alice breathless, and she turned quickly in a circle, whispering "_Hatter?_" The sudden memory of those empowering, impassioned viridian eyes sent a jolt through Alice's veins and made her heart leap in a tremulous joy. She had to find him- she had to. She'd told him that she'd be back, and now she was and she had so much she wanted to tell him…

Alice felt a tremble in her legs. She swallowed, her heart seizing for a moment in panic. But then it became more insistent, and suddenly Alice realized it wasn't her legs, but the whole earth seemed to shudder beneath her. A thundering was upon her, and Alice was only able to turn around before a herd of riders came brandishing through the toadstools and flowers, trampling all that was in their way, and came up to surround her.

Alice turned quickly, noting that they all carried crossbows of impeccable impression, black, with glittering steel tips, all pointed at her. _This can't be, I slayed the Jabberwocky! The Red Queen couldn't have risen back to power, _she thought. All of the men were dressed ruggedly, reminding Alice of what Robin Hood's merry men might look like. Galloping up in the middle was a dark horse, but Alice could see on the tips of the horse's mane it was stained in violet. The rider wore a black jerkin with an insignia of five dark, golden stars on the chest arranged in a circle. Her eyes traveled up further to meet a very handsome face. He had dark hair that fell in wisps, tied back in a pony tail. His face was chiseled, slightly tanned, with a black goatee, high cheek bones that set onyx eyes, and atop his head was a hat that reminded Alice of a pirate, complete with a raven's tail feather.

Then, he smiled.

"Who might this precious little flower belong to?" he asked, dismounting with more grace than Alice possessed in her pinky toe. He was so tall, much taller than she expected. She was forced to look up to meet his eyes.

As he walked into the circle of horses, the men raised their crossbows up to the sky in reverence and authority. The man walked up to Alice, and she felt weak in the knees at his presence (though no one could have expected this-so many months of learning the power of persuasion and intimidation no longer affected Alice). She sensed power radiating off of him, though he dressed rather simply like a hawk master. He smiled with perfect white teeth, and Alice thought he must have a charm about him. He was still waiting for her answer.

"My name is Alice," she said, just as the man took her hand and placed a delicate kiss upon it.

A stunned silence washed over everyone, and the dark, handsome man looked shocked, frozen over Alice's slender fingers. She felt uncomfortable with him holding her hand, and at first his grip on her tightened, then he released her. "Alice?" he murmured, floored it seemed. "…not _the _Alice, Champion of Marmoreal? Slayer of the Jabberwocky? Surely, not _that _Alice."

Alice felt butterflies in her stomach, but nodded timidly. She wasn't sure if it was such a good idea to reveal herself to a complete stranger, but there was nothing to do about it now.

Suddenly, the man kneeled down, sweeping off his hat and bowing his head. "It is an honor, Beloved Alice," he said, grinning up at her. "I have heard all the great tales about you, how you brought such honor and glory to the White Queen…restoring her to power."

"Queen Mirana? Where is she? Is she at Marmoreal?" Alice asked, her heart jumping at the mention of the beloved monarch of Underland. "I must see her immediately."

The man before her looked pleasantly amused, and Alice felt a flicker of annoyance. He was looking at her as if she were a child. "The White Queen? She has taken leave, dear Alice." He looked surprised at her shocked face. "You were not aware?"

Alice's eyes measured him for a moment, before they went from surprise to suspicious. "Taken leave where?" she asked.

"No one knows," he murmured, troubled. "It was as if she just vanished." The way the man bowed his head, folding his gloved hands-Alice swallowed heavily. Something was so wrong…

"Who are you?" Alice asked, looking at him as he straightened himself up. "I've never seen you before." And this was Alice's third trip to Underland, so she felt she had the right to consider herself on good standing with creatures here in this world she loved so much. And she was even more sure that she would remember _this_ man.

"Ah, yes," he said with a charming smile, bowing. "My name is Lord Rivalen."

"Lord Rivalen?" Alice puzzled, tilting her head. That was completely new. "Where are you from?"

"I was born in Crims under the Red Queen's rule, years ago," he said, looking off in the distance with dark, narrowed eyes. For a moment all was quiet, and Alice wondered if he forgot she was there. She took a step back and his eyes snapped back to her, the smile returning. "Well, come. You look perfectly lost in this desolate place. We'll get you food and clothes and talk about what is to become of you." He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, and one of his men brought up an equally dark horse.

Alice didn't usually like decisions to be made so quickly for her by others, but this man seemed to know more about what was going on in Underland than she did. He would give her answers, she felt, and he seemed to have a kind disposition for her. So without any more arguments, Alice let Lord Rivalen help her up onto the black mare, and their party moved quickly through the toadstools and marshes, traveling through Underland's countryside.

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A bit of an in-between chapter. Please review and the action starts next :)


	3. The Flight of a Princess

**Chapter 3:** The Flight of a Princess

_If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking_. -George S. Patton

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Alice rode alongside Lord Rivalen, staring at the landscape of Underland as it passed by her. Alice felt such an intense, urgent sadness. Color was seeping out of places, in the nature and landscape. She felt so helpless. Something was obviously so wrong, and the Queen was missing.

_I have to find the Hatter,_ Alice thought to herself, Panic trying to bubble in her chest. _He'll know what's going on and what to do. He always does. He was the heart of the Resistance against the Red Queen. _Alice chanced a glance at Lord Rivalen; she wanted so badly to ask if he knew where the Mad Hatter was, but something stopped her. She wasn't sure what it was, but she felt she needed to wait.

Moments later, galloping over the last hill, Alice glimpsed their supposed destination. It was a large castle, not quite unlike Salazen Grum, but made of black marble. Banners lined the battlements and blew in the breeze, black velvet with the same five dark gold stars arranged in a circle. Spires seemed to guard the heavens from crashing down upon it, and statues in the shapes of animals- grizzly animals, not frogs and fish and monkeys, but bears, lions, and panthers-dotted its architecture. It was gated, and Alice had a fleeting thought of, "_Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here._"

The only redeeming quality of the entire location for Alice was the garden that surrounded the castle. Lush, thick emerald grass with tall, blossoming fuchsia trees that swayed in the breeze. The color scheme, perhaps, reminded her of the mixed colors she often saw on the Hatter.

_Hatter, please be all right_, prayed Alice. Her hands were trembling, so she squeezed them into fists.

The horse beneath her came to a stop, and Alice thanked the guard that came and helped her dismount. Lord Rivalen smiled handsomely at her as he offered her his arm, which she took and they walked into the castle. Everything inside the doors was black, too. Alice had a fleeting thought of Marmoreal, all in white, and Salazen Grum, all in red. _With so many colors, why only conform to one?_

Alice smiled to herself, thinking of her Mad Hatter's array of colors. Her heart turned over in her chest just at the thought of his viridian eyes staring at her with tenderness…he must be around somewhere close.

A servant appeared at Alice's arm, and she noted that he looked like a man who had seen the worst of a back injury, for he had some of the most terrible posture she'd ever seen. He was hunched over, as if afraid to look up. "Carnwick," Lord Rivalen said. "Take Lady Alice to one of the guest rooms. Have a maid run her a bath, get her some clothes, and a hot meal," he looked at Alice then, and suddenly caressed her cheek with his fingers. Alice shivered at the touch, her eyes fluttering down, and stepped away quickly. "…and find me when you're done."

"This way, milady," Carnwick murmured in a thick Celtic accent, huddling off up the stairs slowly. Alice followed behind him without a word, wishing she could take away the pain in the poor man's back. He looked to be suffering, but of what she couldn't be sure.

Oh, how right Alice was.

Lord Rivalen watched Alice and Carnwick disappear down the hall and turned on his heel and walked off, pulling off his gloves and tossing them at a nearby servant as he went into his study. The servant grappled for the gloves, before scurrying off.

Rivalen made sure the door was shut firmly behind him before taking off his hat and cloak, then strode across the room and poured himself a glass of liquor. A fire roared in the hearth, warming the entire study, causing the plush ebony furniture to look almost gilded in the firelight. The lord stepped to one of the large windows, staring out at the desolate land before him, studying the clouded pearl grey sky.

Moments later, when Rivalen's glass was only half full, Carnwick entered the room humbly, murmuring, "Milord… Lady Alice is settled in her room. Is there anything that I might do for you?"

"Yes, Carnwick, there's _always_ something for you to do," Rivalen grumbled, shooting a distaining look at him. "Now that I have _the_ Alice, I won't be letting her go."

Carnwick continued to study his feet.

"She slayed Queen Iracebeth's Jabberwock. That's unbridled power, more than Alice herself probably knows what to do with… and once Underlandians know that their Beloved Alice has returned, they will want to see her, no doubt. After all, she was a part of the Resistance against the Red Queen. Their morale will be increased again… and they'll come out from hiding in their rabbit holes," said Rivalen with a smarmy grin.

Carnwick swallowed. "But milord… Lady Alice will never agree to anything you propose- and she asked me about Queen Mirana. She'll want to know what's happened-"

"Play the fool, then, Carnwick. It's not that difficult a role for you," Rivalen snapped, pouring himself another drink. "After all, as long as she remains here, she can't go asking questions and getting the truth. She doesn't need to know about any of the prisoners we've taken… or the ones we're still looking for."

Carnwick felt queasy. He hated lying, and now after hearing so many tales of the Beloved Alice of Underland, the hero, champion, and leader of the Resistance against the Bloody Red Queen- he had to lie to her. Lie to _The_ Alice! He was more shameful than any worm in Rivalen's metal garden…

"She'll remain here for as long as I need her… I want them to know she's here- with me," Rivalen smiled. "If her loyal followers know that their Beloved Alice was siding with me- or at least think that she is- they'll give in… and perhaps see reason that it's better this way under my rule. Mirana used excuses to dodge her duties as a monarch. And father… father used to say I wouldn't amount to the dirt on his shoes, Carnwick."

Rivalen threw the crystal glass at his father's portrait hanging over the bookshelf, where it shattered, the liquor coating the face. "Successful, wasn't he? He ended up the most shamed man in Underland."

Carnwick swallowed, trembling. When Lord Rivalen became violent, Carnwick would undoubtedly be under his aim of fire. He closed his eyes, waiting for the storm that was Rivalen's emotions to pass.

Rivalen, though, passed a disgusted look at Carnwick. "…get out of my sight."

The door was closing before Rivalen finished the sentence.

If there was anything in Underland that was the same as the world above, it was one thing: gossip. Once started, it was like a leaf that just barely touched the surface of a pond, yet the ripples stretched far and wide to destinations the leaf had never been to or seen. In this same way, the news that Underland's Beloved Alice had returned was hardly able to be kept secret. The servants of the Black Palace were quick to begin talking, all murmuring in the kitchen together in earnest.

Carnwick opened the door and hobbled in, panting softly, looking up with dove grey eyes. Everyone's head snapped to the door to the young man, his disheveled hair falling around his face.

"Carnwick!" whispered a servant. "Is it true?"

Suddenly they surrounded him, and Carnwick felt nervous all over again-but with excitement. "It's true," he gushed, grinning. "Alice has returned- _The _Alice! Right here, in Mortpheal. She's destined to save us; why else would she be here?"

All the servants nodded in agreement, and Carnwick rubbed his chin, thinking. "We have to get word to Tulgey Wood. They have to know- everyone has to know," he whispered.

"We should tell her now- help her escape!" one servant said passionately.

Carnwick swallowed, murmuring, "He'd kill us all."

Everyone quieted at that fact, knowing it to be true. Though it would be the honorable thing, though it would have been the _right_ thing, none of them were that brave or courageous. That's why they were all under the hand of Lord Rivalen to begin with... Carnwick then got an idea- a crazy, mad, risky idea. "Back to work, now! Before we're caught!" He whispered, and hobbled over to the counter, putting some bread, cheese, and a nice green pear on a plate. As he hobbled past the door, Carnwick grabbed a dark brown traveling cloak that hung from a peg.

Within Mortpheal Castle, there were many great rooms, all black in color and furniture, plush and bragging of wealth. Many housed the courtiers, but beneath these rooms there was a cellar. Carnwick knew every nook and cranny of the entire castle, and as he descended into the dark, dank cellar, he hobbled all the way to the back, past the barrels of food and the racks of bottled drinks. The coal room (which was more the size of a closet) was in the back of the cellar… but it was not filled with coal.

Carnwick unlocked the door and stepped in, setting the tray of food and water down on the floor. "Lily- Lily, where are you, dear?" he called, nervously. Any of the guards could come down at any moment and the entire plan would be ruined. In addition that, Carnwick would receive a wicked beating from the guards, then from Lord Rivalen himself.

A small frame looked up from the corner, yielding bright, glittering eyes. "Carnwick!" she gasped, smiling brightly and stood up. It pained him to see how thin she'd become from being trapped and malnourished. It had not even been that long since she'd been banished down here… he tried to bring her spare food, but there was not much else he could do.

Lily stepped into the dim light. She was a tiny girl, reminiscent of a fairy, with flaxen hair that was threatening to fall from a fishtail braid. Her eyes, though, seemed to look right through Carnwick, a silvery blue that sparkled even in the darkened room. Before she could speak, Carnwick whirled the cloak about her shoulders and fasted the tie at her throat, pulling the hood up quickly.

"Come, Lily, hurry-" Carnwick whispered, taking her hand and hobbling out of the cellar. Lily gasped, running after him obediently, the cloak whirling about her as she followed. They stopped just at the top of the stairs, listening for guards before taking off again, running out through the kitchen. Lily started to stumble, the light, though not harsh, was so bright compared to the dark cellar, and it hurt her eyes. Servants and chefs who were preparing dinner gasped and gaped at them as they ran off, and one even called Carnwick's name in dismay. However, unperturbed, he led her outside through the queer metal garden under the churning yellow sky as it settled on dusk.

"Carnwick- where are we going-"

Pulling a horse out of the stable, the hobbling man pained himself for a moment to lift Lily upon the chestnut colored horse. "Lily, you must go east to the Tulgey Wood. You will happen upon a clearing deep in the woods, and you will find a tree that is not a tree, do you understand?"

Lily's glacial blue eyes held panic, her heart pounding as she desperately tried to hold onto the anxious steed.

"We'll be caught!" The horse whinnied. "You're sending us to our deaths-!"

Carnwick held the horse steady and snapped, "Quiet, Gillian!" He looked up at Lily, his eyes boring into the young girl's, and his voice dropped low, gravelly, and Lily felt chills arise on her skin as she stared into his stormy eyes. "Listen to me, Princess, you must find the Mad Hatter-"

"Tarrant Hightopp?" Lily whispered in awe, her heart beginning to double time.

"Lily, tell him that Alice has returned. Do _not_ stop for a soul, do you understand? Do not stop until you've found him and given him this message! He must know Alice has come back to Underland!"

Lily felt a flush rise up her neck at the mention of Alice, the _Beloved._ Her hands gripped the reins of the horse, whispering, "But why- how will I-"

"Go!" Carnwick snapped at the horse, and suddenly they were gone, a dust cloud of gravel and dirt left in their wake. Carnwick swallowed hard as he watched the Princess of Marmoreal speed out of her prison in search of the Resistance. He was _slurvish_ to do such a thing to her, sending such an innocent girl on such a dangerous task- but if she was out of Mortpheal Castle… she was safer out in the woods than in Mortpheal Castle. Once Lord Rivalen knew that his prized prisoner was gone, things would come to a boil quickly, and it was best that Lily could get away as far as possible as fast as possible. Carnwick's hand gripped his chest over his heart, gazing after her until the steed and the Princess were out of sight.

"_Downal wyth Bluddy Blak Jak."_


	4. That Which We See or Seem

**Chapter 4:** That Which We See or Seem

_Sometimes questions are more important than answers_. -Nancy Willard

* * *

_Alice. Alice. Alice. Beloved, Alice. _

Was it her imagination, or was someone calling her name?

Alice rubbed her arms self consciously, standing in the middle of the cold, black, cavernous room that she was placed in. It was the size of the entire top floor of her house back home in England. A titanic sized bed lay at the back of the room, canopied like a waiting dragon's mouth ready to swallow her whole within its ebony sheets. Alice turned one full circle, her brown eyes surveying the room. She didn't like this place at all- it gave her bad feelings. Feelings that would have been squelched if she had been with someone…someone who could guide her and hold her hand…

_Be back before you know it._

Suddenly, she felt ridiculous for being so meek.

Alice rubbed her bare arms, looking up at the ceiling. She had been let to take a bath and given clothes. She looked at herself in the looking glass, turning gently this way and that way. The dress she wore was a black crystal bejeweled bodice, the sheer sleeves falling off her shoulders. The skirt reminded of Alice of the tutus that the ballerinas had wore when her father had taken her to see Swan Lake, though she resembled Odile now, not Odette, as the glittering black tulle skirt swayed about her knees.

_Focus, Alice. Something is not right! Where is Queen Mirana?_

Alice hurried to the door and put her ear to the cold black stone, listening. When she was only met with silence she turned the door knob and tip toed out into the hall. _It's so dark,_ she thought uneasily. _I don't like this at all. And so quiet. Where are all the servants? Where are all the talking objects?_

It was almost like she wasn't in Underland at all.

Tip toeing down the hallway, Alice came upon the stairs that she had ascended only an hour ago. She wanted to find Lord Rivalen and ask him questions without taking his good manners for excuses- or even the servant who had escorted her. Alice thought he was very kind, and she wished he hadn't left her.

"Goodness, when have I turned into such a wilting flower?" Alice mumbled to herself. _I slayed the Jabberwock. I shouldn't have to fear a soul._

And with that, Alice descended the stairs quickly, her footsteps silent on the marble flooring. It was as if everyone around her had vanished through the walls, like she was all alone there in that Un-Underlandian castle. As she came to the base of the stairs, she had doors lined along the wall either side of her. Left or right?

_I have never been "right"_, Alice thought. _But I've been "left" many times and I've been fine until now._ So with her curious reasoning, Alice veered to the left, her brown eyes turning sharply over her shoulder to make sure no one came upon her from behind. She pressed her ear again to the door, and as she heard nothing, she pushed the two black doors open. Inside was a parlor, a roaring fire in the fire place, making the ebony walls glitter gold, however this room wasn't as dark for it had a window that faced out toward the front gates of the castle, so Alice could see the way she had come. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves of great masses of books, all dusted and yet retaining that antique smell that only good old books are accustomed to. Alice stepped into the parlor, giving a little circle to view her entire proximity, pouting when she found nothing to be of her interest.

_There's no way I could find my way to Marmoreal by myself…but perhaps with a map-_

Suddenly, something caught her eye out through the window pane- something white.

Alice's heart jumped up, Mirana's face swimming in her mind's eye as she rushed to the window. A flaxen haired woman was riding across the country on a horse, veering through the garden, and Alice's heart sank fast when several soldiers could be heard outside shouting angrily. She couldn't tell if it was Mirana, but if it was, she was leaving Alice here. Perhaps she didn't know if she was in the castle? Alice pushed the window open, climbing up into the window sill. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and she opened her mouth to call to the white haired rider-

"Miss Alice!"

The cry startled Alice so much she nearly fell out the window if it were not for two sturdy hands that grabbed her waist. They gently pulled her back into the window and yanked it shut.

It was the servant that had escorted her up the stairs. He had light gold hair mixed with a copper brown that was tied back half heartedly out of his face. His clear grey eyes regarded her with concern and kindness. Alice rather liked his face, for he was quite handsome, but he felt to her to be very kind. Alice noticed that he was dressed quite shabbily, which was curious because those who had ridden with Lord Rivalen had been well dressed. Her brow wrinkled gently in disheartenment at how much pain the servant looked to be in, but he was not worried about himself.

"What were you doing, milady? You could have hurt yourself quite terribly if you had fallen," he said softly. The word "milady" tickled the back of Alice's brain queerly. He truly seemed to care about her wellbeing, so Alice took the chance.

"I thought I saw someone I know," Alice explained as Carnwick dusted her skirt off.

"Really? Who?" he asked, indifferently. He seemed much more interested in making sure the pleats of her tulle skirt were dusted.

Alice bit her tongue, unsure if she should say anything about who she thought she had seen out the window, and instead chose something else to ask. "What's your name?" she asked quietly.

"Carnwick, milady," he answered dutifully, pulling back after a moment and folding his hands. The way he leaned over himself he was almost always staring at his feet. "I'm servant to Lord Rivalen."

Alice took a step closer and was surprised to see him blush, his head lowering even more. "Please," Alice murmured. "Can you tell me what's happened since I've been gone? Since- Since Frabjous Day? I've been gone for an _awfully_ long time."

Carnwick looked uncomfortable for a moment, his fingers circling his left wrist. Alice peered at this, curious why he did it, but he suddenly pulled his shirt sleeves down over his hands completely and looked up at her as best as he could. "Many things have happened, milady. Perhaps you should be more specific."

Alice frowned in annoyance. She didn't like her questions being responded to with questions (usually), and even though the servant had merely _suggested_ it, it sounded to Alice more like a question. She sighed and then said, "Where is the White Queen? …the _Queen_ of _Underland_. How is Marmoreal?"

Carnwick looked especially uncomfortable now, as if he had to pick up a bug and was being forced to eat it. "M-Miss Alice…" he whimpered, closing his eyes and bowing his head. It was so strange-he seemed as if he was in true pain over speaking with her.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Alice whispered, her annoyance evaporating, stepping forward and taking his hands compassionately. Carnwick jumped as if he was a cat who'd had water poured over him. Alice let him go equally as fast, swallowing, thinking it was probably too inappropriate to simply grab a stranger's hands here in Underland. _Wonderful, Alice, now you've scared him speechless,_ she snapped at herself.

Carnwick put his hands up to his face, breathing erratically, murmuring (muffled behind his hands), "M-Miss Alice, p-please… I d-don't want to l-lie to you…"

Alice frowned deeply, her stomach turning to stone. "Why won't you tell me anything?" she asked, her eyes narrowing, giving him a long look.

Carnwick stopped trembling and his hands fell limply to his sides, looking up at her remorsefully, nodding. "I would like to, Miss," Carnwick said quietly, defeated. "But I am not allowed."

"Something is going on then, isn't it?" she asked quickly, her heart beginning to feel like iron in her chest, thinking of all of her friends here in Underland. "Something bad- otherwise you wouldn't have to hide or lie." Something she had learned in her business travels, though she knew from the moment she stepped into the Strange Garden that things were amiss. She could feel it, but hearing it… was much different.

Carnwick looked miserable at her words, and for a moment Alice felt the need to take his hands. However, because that had been _so_ helpful the last time she'd attempted it, instead, she laid her hand on his shoulder, which made him give a violent twitch. At least he didn't topple apart. "Please, you can tell me," Alice whispered. "Whatever it is-"

"Will have to wait after dinner," came a voice from the door.

Carnwick didn't turn around, but his face crumpled in defeat and Alice looked up to see Lord Rivalen standing at the door. His plain clothes had been traded for grander clothing, a black velvet tunic embroidered with deep gold vines crawling across his chest, black pants and boots, and a thick, expensive midnight cloak- that Alice was shocked to see was made out of fur. Even being around the Red Queen, Alice had never seen such a thing, though she couldn't tell from what beloved Underlandian animal the coat had been made from. Something like a fur coat wouldn't have alarmed Alice in England- anywhere in her world in _Upland_, but here… things were different for a reason.

"Come now, Lady Alice," Rivalen said with an enchanting smile. Alice's face didn't betray her feelings of uneasiness and she looking down at Carnwick. His stormy grey eyes beckoned her go, but his hands had started to tremble again. Guilt weighed on Alice unpleasantly, and she wished that she could fix whatever it was that had been done.

Rivalen turned on his heel and walked out, with Alice following behind him, starting to understand why everything was so dark in Mortpheal.

* * *

Alice was not picky about her food. Granted she didn't eat that much very often, as was custom when one is preoccupied sailing around the world and using up all her energy and time to imagine a grain of sand into a mountain. However, she had never seen food like _this_ before. On the plate before Alice sat various sliced fruits, ruby colored melons, juicy, violet tangerines, and plump, turquoise strawberries, all drizzled with a bright orange sauce that engulfed Alice's nostrils and made her mouth water on demand. There was a fillet of fish (Alice nearly lost her head at the sight) that had iridescent scales glittering in the candlelight on the other side of her plate, as well as a petite loaf of buttery bread that had something akin to cranberries baked into it.

Alice glanced up at Lord Rivalen, who was watching her with bemused interest. She held his gaze for a moment, her face clear and impassive, however her eyes seemed to betray her stomach.

"Please, my dear Alice," Rivalen said with a handsome, white teethed smile. "Eat. I daresay I think you'll like it. Have you ever tried Underland's foods?" he asked curiously.

"Only Upelkuchen and Pishsalver," Alice said, looking back down at the succulent ruby melon. The scents mixing together were intoxicating.

"Tck, tck, tck," Rivalen clucked, grinning. "Those are not _food _items, dear Alice. They are not for eating."

"Well, they tasted good to _me_," Alice replied. She remembered that Upelkuchen tasted like carrot cake. At least McTwisp's share did.

"Try the Opalite," Rivalen said with that same smile. His black eyes were glittering excitedly. Rivalen was such an interesting man, to be sure. Alice knew she should be on her guard, suspicious, and not trust him as far as she could heave him. At the same time, Rivalen possessed an irresistable magnitude, like that of a panther-beauty and power of such amazing height, but while one was busy admiring the panther, it was circling to feed.

Alice's stomach growled at his words, though, as if the Lord of the Castle possessed an uncanny hold on Time itself, and she looked down at the different foods. "Which one is that?" she asked.

Rivalen glanced at his own plate and picked up the ruby melon slice. He held it up to his nose and gently inhaled, sighing deeply as if he'd just had the most delicious bouquet of wine. Alice frowned slightly, glancing at hers and picked up the identical slice of fruit. Immediately, her hand was warm, as if she was holding a cup of tea. She gasped, her eyes widening a bit as she slipped it between her fingers.

"Smell it," Rivalen offered.

Alice thought this was a very queer introduction, but Curiosity won and she brought the fruit to her nose. Immediately, her nose, face, and lungs were filled with a variety of-well, of _memories._ Alice smelled her father's amber scented cologne, she could taste the warm, buttery flavor of Christmas liquor candies, practically drink the memory of her mother making apple cider and sneaking a quick cup...such warm, rich, sensuous scents flooded her nose. Without any other prodding, encouragement, or thought, Alice took a bite of the ruby red fruit. Flavor, just as delicious and mouthwatering filled her senses. Sweetness, tanginess, and yet a bite of sour made her cheeks blush and her eyes roll. It was one of the most scrumptious things she'd ever had- and Alice ate the next three slices on her plate, too.

Rivalen chuckled. "It is my favorite, too."

The blue strawberries were sour and delightful, the tangerines were zesty, almost spicy but left the warmest aftertaste on her tongue that Alice ate them all too. She paused at the fish, deciding not to eat it (_It could be someone I once knew, _Alice thought despondantly) and drank some of the wine- which tasted pungent of lemon.

"What did… you call the melon?" Alice murmured. Her head felt heavy and fuzzy all of the sudden. She wasn't used to drinking, and now regretted emptying her wine glass.

"Oh dear, I hope the wine isn't getting to you," Rivalen cooed with a smile. "It's awfully strong, isn't it?"

"Terribly," Alice murmured, rubbing her throat, looking back up at him. She felt like there was a veil over her eyes. Everything looked misty.

"The fruit? Ah, yes, it's called Opalite," he said, picking up an uncut ruby melon. He gripped it in his hand and squeezed, and Alice watched as the juice traveled from between his fingers and down his hand and arm all the way down to his plate-where the same ruby fruit laid, untouched before him. Rivalen looked at Alice, and she could feel her skin tingling with urgency.

"Lord Rivalen, where is the White Queen?" Alice asked, squeezing the cushion of her chair to help herself focus. Hadn't she wanted to ask him questions of this nature? Something about… Marmoreal… hadn't she needed to know something? She felt like she was drunk (not that she knew what that would be like), and she was trying harder than ever to keep steady and sitting up.

"Queen Mirana of Marmoreal has removed from herself from her throne by a motion of no confidence, I'm afraid, dear Alice," Rivalen drawled, watching her with amusement. His eyes were sparkling like a cat that had a mouse between its paws. "She will not be returning."

"Removed-?" Alice's head began to spin now, shutting her eyes tight. Why was her throat so dry? It felt like she was trying to talk with a ball of cotton in her mouth.

Lord Rivalen stood up, tossing the beautiful crimson Opalite between his hands, his eyes pinning Alice in her seat with an intense satisfaction. Alice gripped the armrests with white knuckled hands. "The White Queen tried to rule with a soft touch and a gentle smile; unfortunately, the Game of Thrones is not sympathetic to the kind and the meek. Underland needs a ruler that will bring it out of this Dark Age of nonsense and care-freedom. Queen Iracebeth was indeed powerful, but she could not contain herself. Queen Mirana had her troubles fought for her-and no self respecting ruler can hope for a victory without putting forth _some_ effort…especially when the one who fights her battles…disappears."

Alice's heart began to pound hard in her chest, and a cold sweat broke out on her face. She tried to push herself up from her chair, but she fell against the table, her knees buckling under her. Rivalen grabbed her wrist, making her cry out and pulled her up to face him. He was grinning like an alligator that could see its food. "I am a ruler that will reform these lands, Alice. There is power and magic to be had in Underland, and these little fools who try to protect the old ways- the Oraculum, the Outlands, and the animals are but mere visions of the past. We will no longer be bottom dwellers in this world, my dear, Alice."

"Stop-stop this-" Alice whispered, her head fuzzy as if she had a sea anemone tickling her brain inside her head. "This is wrong…"

"No, what is wrong is that I have been living under an idiot monarch's hand for far too long," snapped Lord Rivalen. "I am going to take power over Underland and flourish-and then we will march into your world, Upland…" he dragged his hand over her cheek, his thumb caressing her lips that were still moist from the ruby red Opalite. His hand now gripped her jaw. "And you will help me."

"NO!" Alice swung her arm out at him, batting Rivalen's hand from her face, glaring with fierce brown eyes.

"You will," Rivalen promised, licking his thumb where the juice from Alice's lips had grazed his skin. "And you'll find that you will enjoy this, Alice, being Queen. Indeed, but until then you need your rest. The skin of the Opalite is quite toxic, but it shan't harm you. In fact, it will help you sleep ever so well."

Alice fell onto her hands, her head spinning from her sudden exertion. She tried to blink her eyes rapidly, but it was no use. She could feel herself slipping under darkness, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. She could hear Rivalen's boots rhythmically scuffing the floor as he sauntered over to her. She heard him chuckle as her body went limp, her head hitting the black tile with a sickening crack.

"Sleep well, Alice," he cooed, his dark eyes smiling down at her with a sinister glint. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

Lily had finally dismounted close to four hours after Carnwick had helped her escape. Her limbs trembled with weakness, her legs raw and numb. She stood in the dark Tugley Wood, on a twisted path that led deeper into the darkness. This was one place that the Black Jack had not overcome with his tyranny yet. Deep in the wood, the Trees were fighting against the forces that Lord Rivalen was trying to wield against their kind. Lily held onto the Gillian's reins as they walked down the path into the deep and the dark, the horse whimpering and neighing in anxiety.

"Thank goodness Alice has returned," Gillian neighed quietly under her breath. "Thank goodness! She'll save us from this horror! This terrible nightmare!"

Lily tasted sour at the mention of _the_ Alice. She had been told stories of Alice, _The Beloved_ as so many in the Resistance had come to know her, for as long as she could remember: tales of a blonde girl in blue who had the most exquisite mind. She was a hero to the people of Underland, and had saved them in more ways than one. Lily was to be grateful (or so her governess and mother had told her), but the only feelings the Princess of Marmoreal had for the Champion of her Kingdom was distrust, distaste, and disgust.

Lily thought of the days she had spent in hiding during the Days of the Bloody Red Queen. Her Queen Mother had sent her out of their kingdom for safekeeping, in a hideaway with her ladies in waiting and body guards, though Lily knew for certain that her Aunt Iracebeth had never taken an interest in her. They had received news of Alice returning on Griblig Day, and everyone had been so enthralled over the news. At the time, Lily could just vaguely remember Alice (Lily had only been a little girl at the time when Alice had _first_ journeyed to Underland), but when she heard that she had defeated the Jabberwocky in the name of Marmoreal and Underland, Lily had wanted more than anything to meet her Kingdom's Champion. It had thrilled her to learn that someone so close in her age could accomplish such a feat- it gave her immeasurable hope…

However, by the time Lily had arrived at Marmoreal, Champion Alice the Beloved was nowhere to be found. It was as if she had vanished entirely. Her mother had told her that their Champion had returned to her homeland, called Upland. Lily found that it was cruelly unfair. She was _their_ Champion, not Upland's. What right did she have to leave them? How could she betray them that way, abandoning their people! If she was a _true_ Champion, in Lily's opinion, she would have stayed in Marmoreal, she would have stood by her people loyally where she belonged.

Lily muttered, "Good riddance."

Gillian didn't seem to hear her, neighing anxiously.

Lily sighed, her icy blue eyes looking around as they walked deeper into the woods. Everything looked the same to her (which was unbelievably frustrating!), and Lily definitely started to regret that she hadn't paid attention to her mother when she tried to get her to listen to the trees. _Look for a tree that is not a tree,_ Lily thought to herself. _How shall I do that when I'm in a forest that's filled with trees that _are most certainly _trees?_

"Who are we looking for, Princess?" Gillian asked, her eyes nervously casting from one twisted tree to the next. Lily began to pet her mane to calm her, but whether it was doing her any good or not, she wasn't sure.

"The Mad Hatter," Lily whispered with reverence. "Tarrant Hightopp."

Chills tingled her skin, and Lily felt a warm, earthy blush come to her body. The Mad Hatter was a dark character that hid a noble man underneath. Lily remembered when he would used to lead the dances at the royal balls, or when he would offer his services as a diplomat to the Queen. In any other court, Lily knew that this would never have been accepted, but Tarrant had saved his mother years ago when his clan had been destroyed by the Jabberwock. He had sacrificed much to save the White Queen, and her mother would not let that go idly by. After all, Tarrant was as well such a talented Hatter as he was passionate about the freedoms of Underland. He had led the Resistance against the Red Queen.

"Oh, the Mad Hatter!" Gillian neighed appreciatively. "He'll help us fix this mess."

Lily's heart fluttered in her chest and she smiled to herself. "Yes, he will." Lily wasn't quite sure if he'd know who she was- after all, she had been so little the last time she'd seen him and he'd seen her…

"But… how will we know where to find him?" Gillian asked worriedly, and Lily sighed, for that was the exact question she had been wondering over for an hour now.

"Carnwick said we were to look for 'a tree that is not a tree.'"

"All I see are trees that most certainly _are_ trees," Gillian complained, snuffing as she echoed Lily's own personal thoughts. She wondered if perhaps she had heard Carnwick wrong. They had been in such a terrible hurry, perhaps she'd misunderstood him. Carnwick was so difficult to understand sometimes, he was so intelligent and learned that sometimes he used words that Lily herself-tutored by some of the most resplendent instructors in Underland-could not always recognize.

As they perused the path that they were on, the trees became suddenly less dense in population, and the forest thinned until they walked out into a clearing. Carnwick's words rang in Lily's ears: _You will happen upon a clearing deep in the woods, and you will find a tree that is not a tree, do you understand?_

Lily understood _exactly_ when she stepped into the clearing-she had not misheard him at all. Carnwick had protected the whereabouts of this place in case anyone was listening, because to the untrained eye, it was indeed a tree that _was_ not a tree, but if he'd said the one word that this thing actually was, anyone could find it If they were looking.

The March Hare's Windmill.

Though, it was a remnant of the past, a dilapidated windmill, with drooping propellers, moss covered and overgrown. But instead of an average windmill, it had been so unkempt and abandoned that a tree had indeed sprouted inside it, coming right through the roof. Several branches stuck out through the random windows, and a large canopy helped the propellers to blend in with the nature. It looked exactly like a tree. Lily smiled, whispering, "Carnwick the Clever."

"What is it? Why have we stopped?" Gillian asked nervously, and Lily continued to pet her soothingly.

"Calm yourself, Gillian. We've found what we were looking for."

They approached the windmill, and only then did Lily notice the odd arrangement of tea tables so that they created a makeshift dining hall table, bedecked with various plates, cups, and teapots. Chairs and stools of every size and color surrounded this table, and Lily felt some slight sadness. She'd been told of the Mad Hatter's tea parties with the March Hare and the Door Mouse. Perhaps this was where it all had taken place. Lily swallowed, feeling as though she were looking at an ancient part of the past, for the table cloth (that had surely seen a beautiful past at one time) was weather worn and moth eaten, the cups and dishes and teapots nearly all shattered and broken into pieces, and even the chairs and stools that surrounded the tables were either knocked over, broken down, or so misused they were falling apart.

Gillian neighed softly, trotting in excitement. "I don't see him- I don't see him! Where _is_ he?"

"He must be here," Lily whispered then turned to Gillian. "Wait here. I'll go look."

Lily led Gillian beneath a weeping willow tree, hiding her behind the curtain of leaves. She patted her neck reassuringly, took a deep breath and walked up the little steps to the door. They groaned under her weight, and when she pushed the aged door open, it creaked so loud Lily grimaced. Inside, the entire housing of the windmill was overgrown in moss. The left over furniture was scattered around, falling apart and left sadly behind. In the middle of the windmill, though, which took up the greater portion of inside of the structure was the tree's trunk. The dark brown bark was ragged and scattered with deep ridges and indentions. She put her hand on the wood, surprised to find it so smooth. She had never seen a tree so gargantuan. Lily was sure almost the entire White Queen's court could fit inside the trunk.

"Do you see anything?" Gillian called anxiously.

Lily ran her hand over the bark, stepping on the large roots as she slowly circled the tree. "No," she said, looking around for anyone, but it seemed as if the windmill had been abandoned years ago. Lily paused on the far side of the tree, feeling failure build up inside her quickly, tears of dejection and hopelessness stinging her eyes. She could hear Gillian restlessly dancing back and forth on her feet, waiting for her. "Where are you?" Lily whispered, and with the hand that was resting on the bark she rapped her fist on the tree in frustration.

Suddenly, the roots slithered beneath her feet like serpents, right out from under Lily's feet, opening a dark abyss. Lily fell instantly, disappearing into that darkness, her scream echoing behind her as the tree swallowed her whole, leaving behind no evidence the Princess of Marmoreal had ever been at the Windmill of the March Hare.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much to my reviewers!**


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